PHILADELPHIA—If there were any justice in college basketball, San Diego State would rule Southern California, maybe even the entire state, and Jamaal Franklin would be the emperor.

If those inside the sport made the rules, that’s likely how it would be. That’s how much of a leap the program has made, and that’s how good Franklin is—a sleeper star who is not quite a sleeper but not quite a star, either.

San Diego State's Jamaal Franklin is more interested in talking about his teammates than himself. (AP Photo)

The Aztecs, however, are seeded seventh in the South Region and shooting for a second Sweet 16 berth in three years. (Unless America’s new crush, Florida Gulf Coast, ruins that Sunday night at Wells Fargo Center, that is.)

And down here, also under the radar, is Franklin, the 6-5 junior, a first-team All-Mountain West guard and the only player in Division I leading his team in scoring, rebounding, assists and steals.

He’s also someone who would rather not blow his own horn, no matter how much he deserves it. Nor will he wonder aloud what it would take to get a little notice outside of his local fan base, conference, even his own locker room, with the soap opera at UCLA washing over everything.

“Like I always say, we can’t worry about what fans and other people think,’’ Franklin said Saturday, a day after a routine 21-point, eight-rebound, five-assist, two-steal showing in a 70-55 win over Oklahoma in the Round of 64. “We have too much we’ve given in this locker room—our blood, sweat and tears.

“If we start worrying about what other people think of us—that would never count as much as what we think about each other in this locker room.”

The Aztec players do come off as an uncommonly tight-knit group, eager to give each other credit before taking it themselves. Franklin gushed over his teammates, especially senior backcourt mate Chase Tapley, while deflecting questions about himself. Tapley did the gushing about Franklin and what he has meant to raise SDSU’s profile, such as it is.

“For being one of the best programs in Southern Cal, I feel like we were my freshman year,’’ Tapley said. “We just kept building and building and building each year. As for Jamaal being one of the best players coming out of Southern Cal—just me watching him, with his work ethic and everything—we work hard to be in the position that we’re in, and that’s why we’re successful.’’

Clearly, though, SDSU revolves around Franklin, nearly as much as it revolved around Kawhi Leonard in 2011 when it lost in the Sweet 16 to eventual champion UConn, after an epic double-overtime win over Temple the round before. Franklin was a freshman that year, and his role has grown in the two years since, to where he averaged 16.9 points, 3.3 assists and an eye-catching 9.4 rebounds—again, he’s an off-guard—this season.

He’s the focal point of the team, making everyone around him better in the truest sense of the phrase, while making opponents game-plan for him. Oklahoma was just the latest, with little success. Meanwhile, Tapley and sharpshooter James Rahon combined for 27 points themselves.

That sort of balance is how Franklin prefers it—as opposed to being acknowledged as the star, the centerpiece, the go-to guy.

“I don’t feel like that at all. I have a good group of guys I play with every day who can do the same things I do,’’ he said. “I don’t have to pressure myself to do it, because somebody else can always do it.’’

This is not to say, though, that he doesn’t take note of the hierarchy in his area. It just doesn’t bother him that SDSU got eclipsed hours after its NCAA Tournament win by UCLA’s loss, the Howland job speculation and Muhammad’s ongoing story lines.

“I got the opportunity to play against Shabazz,’’ he said, “and he knows how I play, and he knows how good I am. I’m not really worried about that.’’

Indeed, besides both being natives of Southern California, they faced off in the Wooden Classic in December. Not only did SDSU win 78-69, Franklin won the individual battle comfortably, with 28 points and seven rebounds to Muhammad’s 16 and four (about two weeks after his delayed college debut).

Franklin leaves impressions on those who see him. Just not quite as many people have seen him as he deserves.

“I think all the people that follow basketball know,’’ his coach, Steve Fisher, said, “and maybe because we’re West Coast, and even those that like to watch, it’s hard to stay up to watch a game starting at midnight here when we’re playing.’’

Not unreasonable. The Aztecs weren’t even the team to watch from their conference—except that they are now, as the Mountain West’s lone survivor. Still, the program and its best player fight an uphill battle. In a way, having Cinderella as the next opponent, with all the eyes it will draw, helps.

And they might see something unforgettable, like Franklin’s breakaway late in the Oklahoma game, a certain exclamation point, in which he went up for a two-hand reverse—and banged it off the back of the rim, where it bounced high, landed back on the rim, bounced a couple of more times and fell through. It didn’t manage to be the dunk of the night (thanks, again, FGCU), but it got everyone’s attention.

Even Franklin had to laugh.

“It happens. It was a missed dunk in my heart, but it went in, and it’s a basket,’’ he said. “If I had flushed it, the same thing would’ve happened. I’d have had two points for myself, and my team would’ve been up 14 at the time.’’

Still thinking practically and team-first. No wonder he’s still an unknown.